


Your Touch I Can't Deny

by Interrobang



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Grinding, Inappropriate Tail Touching, M/M, Tiefling Biology, We Love One (1) Autistic-Coded Wizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29923767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: Caleb needed to fidget. Molly knew this. It was impossiblenotto notice, as Caleb was a heavy thinker and seemed to need something to do with his hands while he did it. It was fine when he was at a desk scribbling notes down or working on sigils and equations, but when he was simply reading or deep in thought his hands wandered for lack of anything to occupy them.This proves to be Molly's downfall.(tl;dr, Caleb unthinkingly grabs Molly's tail to fidget with and it gets very sexy from there.)
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 182





	Your Touch I Can't Deny

**Author's Note:**

> TAILS ARE SEXY OK I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

Caleb needed to fidget. Molly knew this. It was impossible _not_ to notice, as Caleb was a heavy thinker and seemed to need something to do with his hands while he did it. It was fine when he was at a desk scribbling notes down or working on sigils and equations, but when he was simply reading or deep in thought his hands wandered for lack of anything to occupy them.

Often his wandering hand would fall upon something small nearby, anything he could twirl and spin in his dexterous fingers, tracing all the grooves of a piece of weathered wood or the texture of a chunk of crystal.

It made it easy to tell when Caleb was immersed in a project and needed to be left to his own devices; if he was only surface skimming a text, his hands would instead be tense, curled into fists as he looked for the information he needed in the moment. Caleb, at his most relaxed and comfortable, was fidgety and casual about his movements, fingers constantly seeking out stimulation.

It was something Molly had come to appreciate over time. What had once seemed a nervous tic was now an expression of Caleb’s comfort. He did not feel the need to hide the fidgeting from his friends as he once had, and that made it all the more precious to Molly.

When the Nein were in their home base, Caleb had plenty of things at his disposal to occupy his hands while he worked: pens, feathers, his scarf, even Frumpkin’s tail on occasion. The library couch, where he often did his reading, had decorative pillows with fancy tassels on the corners that Caleb had all but worn to fraying.

Another funny little quirk the Nein had discovered was that he would also absently accept anything _to_ hold while he was reading, and then fiddle with that. It was very endearing. Crystals, ribbons, or jewelry, all twirled in fingers or run over knuckles or lifted to his lips to feel.

Mollymauk’s favorite discovery, however, was that Caleb would even hold hands if you handed him yours. Veth had done so once, and gotten a laugh in return. Jester, even, had gotten a pat and smile. Molly, however, had gotten a very different reaction— and one he had found entertaining, yes, but not entirely satisfying. Caleb had run his thumb over Molly’s knuckles and twined their fingers together, but then after a few minutes in which Molly definitely didn’t stare at him besottedly, startled and yanked his hand away, red as a mid-summer tomato.

Molly _may_ have tried it a few more times after that. He couldn’t help it: Caleb was so fun to fluster. He’d already propositioned the wizard outright more times than he could count, and each time he was turned down politely. It was almost a running joke at this point: Molly flirted, Caleb blushed, and the night moved on.

But it wasn’t all a simple flirt on Molly’s part. He _liked_ Caleb, was the thing. But Caleb was...reluctant, for his own reasons, Molly knew. But if he knew anything about Caleb— and he was getting to know the man _very_ well— he knew that Caleb often denied himself things he wanted for no real reason other than the fact that he thought he didn’t deserve nice things.

Molly was confident that he was a _very_ nice thing, and that Caleb deserved him very much.

Molly was going a little crazy thinking about it. He wanted Caleb in more ways than he could count, and Caleb clearly felt _something_ for him in return. That equation required a little bit of solving to make it work, but would undoubtedly have spectacular results if handled correctly.

And so he made a plan: Caleb was skittish, but if he eased him into it...maybe Molly could get him to at least to hold his hand comfortably, and not to run away when he threw him a wink.

He just needed to...desensitize him.

Caleb was a recluse by nature, but wasn’t opposed to quiet company. He often forgot to eat while immersed in work, and so Mollymauk took to delivering food to Caleb in his study, then staying to eat with him while Caleb talked through a problem he’d been working on all day. Molly would listen, even if he didn’t quite understand the technical aspects, and then return with a problem of his own that required some talking through. Even if the conversations weren’t always directly related, Caleb seemed interested enough in Molly’s perspective on things.

Molly worked on gradually closing the distance between them. He would brush against Caleb when they walked, and groom him when needed, tucking hair behind his ear or brushing leaves off his coat. He would sit a little bit closer at the table each night, forking helpings of food onto Caleb’s plate for him. And, at the end of a long day, he would sit quietly in the library and simply bask in Caleb’s company, using all his self-restraint to simply be a good companion.

And gradually, Caleb got used to it. No longer did he scoot awkwardly to the end of the bench they were sharing, or take a step back when Molly stood beside him. Instead he turned to Molly as if offering himself to be inspected and brushed down after a long trek. He made room on the couch for Molly. And best of all, he did not flinch at small contact comforts, even reaching out every now and then to return the gesture, his hands tentative as if he did not know if his touch was welcome. Each time, Molly beamed and leaned into it. And often he got a small smile in return.

On this particular night, Molly was reclining on the couch with Caleb. He was content to doze lightly in the dim glow of the fire in the grate, arms crossed over his chest and socked feet propped in Caleb’s lap. This contact alone was a new luxury for him. Caleb rested his free hand on Molly’s ankle, thumb slowly rubbing over the soft wool of his socks just to feel the texture. Molly’s tail draped over his hip, the spaded tip of it twitching occasionally when the fire popped or there was a creaking from somewhere in the house.

Molly didn’t often like to sit still, but it was a rainy night and there was a subdued nature to the library, and so he was content to doze through the serenity of it all, counting time by the fluttering of paper as Caleb read his new book. He could hear Caleb’s fingers tapping on his calf, feeling along the fabric of Molly’s trousers.

“You are purring, Mollymauk,” Caleb commented amusedly, breaking the silence.

“Am I?” Molly asked sleepily. “Hm. Must be the weather.” He returned to his doze, his only movement his chest rising and falling and his tail occasionally flicking.

But the contentment couldn’t last forever. Eventually a seed of boredom started to root itself in Molly’s chest, making him sigh and twist to get more comfortable. He poked his feet against Caleb’s thigh, letting his tail wiggle a little as he settled again.

Caleb did not comment, only shifting so that he was comfortable as well. His hand fell from Molly’s ankle to rub over the fabric of his own trousers, nails drawing lines over the weave of the fabric as he was once more absorbed in the book in front of him. (Distantly, Molly envied the allure of the new book; would that Caleb would be so absorbed with _him_ as with a stack of freshly-printed fiction.)

Molly squinted at him, mischief in his eyes. He tapped Caleb with his tail, the spade of it flapping against his shoulder. Caleb idly swatted it away. Molly tapped his cheek; Caleb gently tilted his face out of range.

He slapped Caleb’s hand with it, intending to maybe draw Caleb’s attractively frazzled expression towards him, but instead inhaled sharply when Caleb’s hand grabbed his tail instead, gripping it just below the base of the cartilaginous spade.

Oh, this was a _mistake._ Shouldn’t’ve done that, nope.

Molly froze stock still, staring blindly past Caleb into the fireplace crackling behind him. Did he dare look at Caleb now? A shiver raked down his spine as Caleb’s grip shifted so that he could pet the fine, tiny bones of Molly’s spine running through his tail, the delicate muscles and tendons that held it in its arc. Molly fought a full-body shudder as Caleb’s wandering fingers scratched the velvety skin of the spade, running over its curve to the blunt point of it.

Molly turned his head ever so slightly to look at Caleb directly. The wizard was still reading placidly, head tilted and eyes intense as they raced over the text, not even seeming to notice that anything was in his hand. It was as if Molly’s tail was just another piece of fabric to fiddle with, and not an extremely sensitive part of his body.

Molly grit his teeth against a moan as Caleb pet along the fine bones going into the spade, calloused fingers dragging across the firm skin. His hands were so warm— Molly felt the heat race up his spine, tingling very pleasantly indeed. What else could he eke out of this encounter without ruining it?

Molly suppressed a whimper as Caleb lifted the spade to his mouth while he was in thought, running the spade over his soft lips. Caleb had done similar things a thousand times before, chewing on pens, running a feather over his lips. Molly could _just_ make out the soft heat of his lips and the faint prickle of facial hair rasping over his skin. It was akin to the sensation of someone nibbling on his ear, enough to— oh, _fuck_ his traitorous body. His tail flicked wildly as another shiver ran through him, but all Caleb did was grip it more tightly, his fingers pinching the tender skin hard enough for his blunt nails to dig into the cartilage.

Molly’s cock throbbed in his trousers, achingly hard against his damnably tight pants. Molly suppressed the urge to touch himself, not wanting to scare Caleb off with sudden movement. He was torn: did he speak, and break the spell? Would Caleb skitter away like a startled animal, or would he lean into it, ravishing Molly here and now?

The truth, it turned out, was neither and both.

The last straw of Molly’s restraint was Caleb starting to press the spade between his lips, over his blunt human teeth, the flats of them dragging over his skin like a singing blade, sharp, bright—

Molly whimpered, high and loud and needy, on the very verge of coming in his pants. He twitched, his tail jerking in Caleb’s grasp, and Caleb dropped it like he’d been electrocuted.

“No, oh, don’t _stop,”_ Molly all but whined, unable to stop the needy cant of his hips.

Realization flooded over Caleb in the form of an immediate dark flush, the rubescent glow spreading patchily from his chest all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Please,” Molly rasped, unable to stop himself. He collapsed back against the pillows, wiping the sheen of sweat off his face. He’d been so _close._

“That’s— I— you, er, enjoyed that?” Caleb asked, spluttering. His eyes were wide as saucers and he looked frozen in place, even his hands hovering mid-air like he didn’t know what to do with them. He looked like he wanted to look away but was instead compelled by some evil magic to stare at Molly, half-debauched on the couch beside him.

Molly let his legs fall open, one hand slowly trailing down his body, framing his groin. He noted with satisfaction that Caleb’s eyes followed its path. He bit his lip, one fang digging in prickle-point sharp. “Didn’t know you had the teeth in you.”

“I did not realize I was biting you—” Caleb spluttered, dragging one hand over his red face as if he should hide his traitorous mouth. “I am so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Molly said through heavy breaths. His heartbeat was starting to come back to normal range, and with it his senses. “It felt amazing, darling.” He sighed, basking in the warmth of the room, the glowing buzz of his own arousal. He squinted over at Caleb, limned by the firelight behind him. Was it imagination, or was the front of his pants tented? Molly grinned, fangs digging into his lower lip. This was his chance. He could push it now, and maybe the payoff would finally pop. “I couldn’t entice you to do that again, could I?”

“I, er—” Caleb spluttered, eyes flicking everywhere except to meet Molly’s own.

“What, you’re not curious? At least a little bit?” Molly teased, letting his tail flick playfully against Caleb’s thigh. Caleb flinched, flexing his thighs together, back straightening. “I mean, say the word and I’ll go finish myself off elsewhere, but you’re invited to the show if you want a ticket.”

Caleb spent a minute clearly torn, his eyes searching Molly’s face for any sign that this was just another flirt, a joke of some sort that he should not indulge. Molly looked back at him placidly, careful to keep his expression as neutrally welcome as he could, lest he scare Caleb off at this late stage.

“Does the...does the show include audience participation?” Caleb asked stiltedly after a moment of obvious internal conflict.

“Oh, absolutely,” Molly purred, his heart blooming. “Come here, my dear.” He beckoned Caleb closer, to cover his body with his own. He was acutely aware of the silence of the study, the late hour, the faint creaking of the rest of the house and the pounding of rain on the ceiling. It felt secluded, though they were as likely to be walked in on here as anywhere else in the place.

Caleb tentatively laid one hand on Molly’s knee, the other on the couch next to him. Molly obligingly wiggled a little, showing off the long curve of his spine extending into his tail. He let it curl around Caleb’s wrist in one purple round, the spade fluttering against Caleb’s chin.

Carefully Caleb reached out to pet Molly’s lower back. He stared intensely— and oh didn’t _that_ make Molly burn— as his fingers brushed over the ridges of his tail, each knob of hard bone and cartilage creating a firm ridge. Molly sighed as he was pet and explored— then moaned when Caleb’s fist closed around his tail, pulling it gently this way and that.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Molly moaned as Caleb rasped his thumb over the underside, just where it met his spine.

“You are sensitive here as well, I take it?” Caleb asked wryly, slowly drawing his hand down Molly’s tail, feeling the flex and curve of the musculature.

“Mm- _hmm,_ ” Molly moaned, biting his lip. There was a rasp of a purr trying to make itself known again in his chest, but he was too tense, back bowed. He was going to _ruin_ these trousers if Caleb kept that up.

His tail jerked, and Caleb was tugged forward, apparently not expecting the strength of the appendage to be so prominent. He stumbled on hands and knees, falling so that his body covered Molly’s own.

Molly stared up at him with lidded eyes, feeling the magenta flush flood his face. He wet his lips, staring up at Caleb hungrily.

“There’s more, if you’re still curious, but I’m afraid I have a price,” he said as alluringly as he could.

Caleb looked unsure, but all Molly had to do was place one hand on his cheek, stroking gently, then curve his clawed fingers around to the back of his head and tug him down—

Caleb’s mouth was soft on his own, gentle and unsure— and they couldn't have that. Molly pressed their mouths firmly together, soft kiss after soft kiss until Caleb relaxed, his mouth opening against Molly’s own and— ah, there, the gentle press of a warm tongue against his own, slickly petting into his mouth. Molly sighed, and pulled Caleb closer against him so that they were pressed body to body, the line of them warm and tangled like a weaving gone awry.

It was impossible to miss Caleb’s interest at his hip, the hard line of him tantalizing in the best way. They ground against each other for long minutes, Caleb’s hand wandering over Molly’s chest and shoulders as if unsure where he should touch.

Molly guided one hand up to one of his horns. Caleb seemed to intuit what he was thinking, his rough palm wrapping around the curve of it, tilting Molly’s head back so he could duck down and tentatively suck marks into the curve of his neck.

“You can be rougher than that,” Molly encouraged him breathlessly.

Caleb sighed and pressed one more light kiss to Molly’s neck, then slowly— almost hesitantly— opened his jaw wider and nipped sharply, blunt teeth digging hard enough to bruise, the pain blooming exquisitely. “Mmmph!” Molly moaned, rolling his hips as pleasure ran down his spine like hot wax, flooding his gut until he felt like he could burst. All he needed was—

Caleb’s questing fingers rubbed at the skin at the base of Molly’s horn, where it was thin and flooded with blood vessels covering the base of it. His blunt nails dragged against it gently, and the sizzle of delight that snapped through him, fuck, _fuck—_

“Shit!” Molly gasped, hips bucking as he shuddered through orgasm, Caleb’s weight over him and the bright tension of his horn and tail being gripped with sharp fingers enough to make him throb, spilling in his underclothes.

Caleb kept kissing him through it, sucking on his neck and scratching at his horn until Molly pried his hand away, shuddering with aftershocks.

“That’s...enough,” Molly managed to pant, body still shaking. His eyes didn’t want to uncross, so he closed them instead, blindly pulling Caleb into another wet kiss. All the heat of his blood was cooling now, from warm syrup to cool molasses, making him sluggish and sleepy. But Caleb was urgent against him. When Molly blinked his eyes open, Caleb’s expression was frantic, flicking over Molly’s face like he was searching for something.

Permission, maybe?

Molly grinned and leaned up to nip at Caleb’s jaw, fangs dragging ever so faintly against his pulse point as he reached to unlace Caleb’s trousers. It was easy to pull him out, already a firm weight in Molly’s hand, throbbing and wet. Molly let his hand slick over Caleb’s cock a few times, experimentally feeling things out. He grinned when Caleb’s head ducked down, his eyes squeezed shut as he seemed to tremble with the attempt to stay still.

“Against me,” Molly murmured, tugging Caleb back down to kiss him again, lips as soft as his hand was mean. He jerked Caleb quickly, digging one heel into Caleb’s backside to press him closer, to urge him to rut against him. The pressure was divine, exactly what Molly needed, and he arched up against Caleb with a shiver of delight. A few pillows fell to the floor as they rocked on the couch. The fire crackled, the wind pounded against the walls, and Molly’s ears strained to hear something, anything from the man above him.

He could just about make out small whimpers falling from Caleb’s mouth, muffled into Molly’s shirt front. Well, they couldn’t have _that._ Molly leaned up to tug him into another kiss, swallowing each quiet moan into his mouth, petting his face with his free hand to keep him close.

Caleb came not much longer after with a shudder and a whine, hips stilling as he shook with each pulse of come splashing over Molly’s front.

Molly let him go with one last solid kiss, smiling sleepily as he stretched like a satisfied cat on his end of the couch. Caleb only blinked at him, red from his ears all the way down into his collar.

“You look like you want to flee,” Molly said, even as a purr rumbled its way out of his chest. “Might I suggest you do the opposite? I very much enjoyed myself, before you ask.” He looked at his front: come was splattered over his shirt, and the front of his pants wasn’t doing much better. He grimaced “I could do with a little prestidigitation, but other than that...stay with me?” He swept sweaty curls out of his face, trying his best to look enticing— and he knew from experience he could do that one _very_ well.

“I...alright,” Caleb said dazedly, awkwardly tucking himself back into his pants. He flicked his fingers, and with a slightly unpleasant tingle Molly felt somewhat clean again. Caleb reluctantly sat back on the couch, stiffly upright and at the far end, where he’d begun— until Molly tugged his arm until he lay down on top of him, their bodies pressed up solidly against each other just the way Molly liked.

“There we go,” Molly said with a sigh. He closed his eyes and let himself resume purring, the rumble deep in chest as comforting as Caleb’s weight on top of him. Caleb slowly rested his head on Molly’s chest, and Molly started to pet his hair, combing through the flaming locks with his fingers, scratching lightly at Caleb’s scalp. Eventually Caleb relaxed against him, his breath evening out to match Molly’s own chest’s steady rise-and-fall.

“You are like one big kitty cat,” he said with a tired laugh at a long few minutes basking together, his voice heavy with sleep and satisfaction. “Purring away like this.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” Molly said sleepily.

And so they dozed off, to the sound of the dying fire in the grate and rain drumming on the ceiling.

Molly awoke alone, but not abandoned. He had been gently tucked in, an afghan spread over him and a frilly pillow pushed under his head. He stretched, cracking his bones all along his neck and back and even his tail with a satisfying series of pops, and shuffled into the kitchen. It always seemed like midnight in this strange city, but their kitchen was a cozy one, with plenty of magical lights to keep the place glowing warmly. And there, still in his clothes from the night before, was Caleb, sipping at a fresh pot of tea.

“It’s not as good as when Caduceus brews it, but you’re welcome to a cup,” Caleb said, his cheeks pink as he took in Molly’s rumpled form.

Molly poured himself a mug. Indeed, it was a little oversteeped, but that could be made up for with a lump of sugar and a little cream to soften the edges. He plopped himself opposite Caleb at one of the trestle tables, allowing himself to relax in the soft lights of their beautiful home.

He sipped sleepily, still waking up, and cracked his jaw on a yawn before smiling at Caleb. He let his tail slink around under the table to curl lightly around the human’s ankle. Caleb, to his credit, did not flinch or pull away, and only ducked his head shyly to slurp at his tea.

Molly allowed himself a minute to admire the man in front of him, sleep-rumpled and kind, his busy fingers tapping away on his cup as he thought about whatever it was that most occupied his mind this morning. Molly suspected that at least a little bit of it was about him.

“A pleasant morning to follow a pleasant evening,” Molly said with a happy sigh, allowing his tail’s grip to tighten lightly on Caleb’s ankle. Caleb looked up at him through those fine, reddish-blond eyelashes of his, his gaze unsure. “I’d like to do that again,” Molly said as plainly as he could. “Preferably somewhere more private— or not, if that’s your thing— and with fewer clothes on.”

“Ah...I see,” Caleb said diplomatically, his face definitely pink now, the tips of his ears nearly glowing with it. Molly fought the urge to reach out and tweak one, just to feel the heat of it under his fingers.

“I rather like you, my dear,” Molly said, leaning his chin on one hand.

“O-oh?” Caleb looked started, his eyes finally flicking up to meet Molly’s own.

“And I think you like me too, only you’re afraid it won’t last.” Caleb frowned, a guilty look coming over his features. His grip tightened on his cup. “And while I can’t promise forever— we all know how those sorts of promises fail in our line of work— I can promise you a very enjoyable _now._

“Would you have me?” Molly carefully put his hand in the center of the table, scarred palm neutrally facing upwards.

And slowly, to Molly’s extreme delight, Caleb placed his own warm hand over Molly’s, squeezing once and rubbing his thumb over Molly’s wrist bones. He smiled, and it was like looking into the rising sun.

“I would like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see more of what I'm working on these days, come hang out with me on Twitter! I'm [@GoInterrobang](twitter.com/GoInterrobang) over there. :)


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